


Kneel

by SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff



Series: So Into You [3]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Blasphemous References to Princess Diana, Blowjobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Hair Kink, Kneeling, Oral Sex, Prick Tease of a First Chapter TBH, Smut, Specifically Nicolas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff/pseuds/SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff
Summary: Nicola knows how to give a blowjob. Of course she does. She simply needs a little - instruction.
Relationships: Nicola Murray/Malcolm Tucker
Series: So Into You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114823
Comments: 14
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning right now for an absolute prick tease of a chapter but it felt like a reasonable break point and as always I yeeted this out just before bed. I'll make it up to you all in the next one. 
> 
> Inspired by Cath to be honest.

It wasn’t like she’d never given a blowjob in her life before. James hadn’t been that interested, which she had always suspected was probably an attempt to politely insinuate that she wasn’t very _good_ , but there had been others. Before, and after. Mostly one-night things, though, and usually more than one glass of pinot down, which always blurred the edges a little and gave her some confidence. It usually only took a few well-meaning bobs of the head before they were encouraging her into something more mutual, but she’d probably been okay at it, at least. She’d never had any complaints. Though she’d always stopped herself short of asking for a review. Over-eagerness was never attractive. But now she was properly with Malcolm, not just occasionally sleeping with Malcolm – she knew she needed to up her game. Not that he’d ever put any pressure on her, or made any of the little comments that James was so fond of. She just – wanted to be good at something. _Really_ good at something. There was no point in doing things by halves. 

‘I just presumed ye – y’know – ye didn’t. Didn’t like it, or found it demeaning or whatever’ Malcolm reasoned, holding court at the kitchen table, gesticulating with one hand as he twirled his spaghetti onto his fork with the other. ‘No, I don’t – I don’t _don’t_ like it. I like it well enough. And I want to do something for you, since you always –‘ she trailed off, focusing intently on a piece of garlic baguette between her fingers. ‘Always?’ he prompted, and she shot him a glare that was still somehow full of love. ‘Since you dedicate so much of your life to eating me out’ she managed to finish without blushing, biting into the bread with a distinct crunch. He laughed then, abandoning the last few mouthfuls of his pasta for the moment to sip his glass of water and give her a long, calculating sort of look. Christ, he was gorgeous. ‘S’really no hardship to me, Nic’la. And I wouldnae want you to feel like you need to give me anything back. We have fuckin great sex, I don’t want ye to be worrying about that.’ Oh _God._ She’d fucking worried him. Great work, Nicola. ‘No, no, it’s – no, I’m not – ‘ she stumbled, which only made him smile again in that knowing sort of way, though he tried to hide it behind another sip of water. ‘I don’t think that. I really, uh – enjoy, everything. All of it. I just – I want to learn, okay? How to do that. I don’t like not knowing things.’ There it was, the embarrassing little truth right at the centre of it all that made her flush as she watched him finish his dinner, twisting her rings around on her fingers. He took another sip of water, leant his cutlery neatly against the side of his pasta bowl, and fixed her with those fucking _eyes_ again. ‘Okay.’ Was that it? ‘Okay?’ she checked, needing to make sure they were on the same page – ‘okay, like, okay now?’ The corners of his mouth crinkled upwards a little just as hers folded downwards in a little anxious half-grimace. ‘That doesnae make any sense, pet. But aye, I’ll teach ye how to blow me – right now, if ye like. Though I thought we might go upstairs – I’ve only just mopped these floors, and it won’t do anythin for yer hip keeling down on the tiles’. ‘You’re fucking ridiculous – but, um – I’d like that. Please. Thanks.’ He rolled his eyes, somehow full of love, and collected up their plates, leaving them in the sink. Only the promise of something truly spectacular could encourage Malcolm to leave the washing up, so hopefully she could rise to the challenge. Or – perform for the occasion. Or – Christ, anything that didn’t sound like a fucking carry-on film.

She perched a little awkwardly on the edge of the bed, watching as Malcolm turned the big light down and turned both the bedside lamps on. Candles in the bedroom made her anxious. ‘What’s tha stripping song ye like?’ he asked, fiddling with his phone and the little round speaker that sat on the top of the dresser. ‘Rocket?’ she offered, and he grinned. ‘Aye, tha’s it – up up, can’t just sit there lookin pretty’ he encouraged as he passed her, sticking the song on and taking his jumper off, leaving him shirtless in just his jogging bottoms. Probably no underwear, it was apparently optional in ‘yer own fucking house’. She stood, trying not to obviously look at her toes, and yelped softly as he ran two cold hands under her jumper to hold her hips. ‘Soft touch’ he teased, and she grinned up at him, settling close against his chest. She’d first come across this particular song at the after-party of Sam’s hen-do (another story in itself), and it had filled her with a flush of confidence that she’d been able to recreate on multiple occasions since by listening to it again. It was just so bloody sexy, and female focused and empowering. Or something like that. ‘Stop thinkin so hard, can hear yer brain’ Malcolm murmured, dipping his head to kiss her, slow and deep and utterly filthy. He was rocking them gently, swaying a little like a bride-to-be outside a wine bar two bottles of prosecco in, his hands warming up against the swell of her hips. She laughed, a soft huff of a giggle against his lips, blinking up at him slowly as they broke apart for air. ‘Dye want yer top off, or -?’ he asked, and she paused for a moment, thinking. ‘Yeah, ‘kay’ she agreed, deciding being fully clothed sucking him off would be more awkward than having her belly rolls on show. It took most of the song for Malcolm to slowly slide off her jumper and, after a further moment of deliberation, her jeans too, leaving her in just the mis-matched soft pink bra and cherry-motif white cotton knickers she’d picked out this morning. ‘These are – uh – quite somethin’ he grinned, running a finger slowly around the lace waistband of her knickers. ‘Tesco – don’t say I don’t treat you’ she laughed, grateful for the moment of weakness. ‘Hang on – ‘ he mumbled, and for half a second she worried that her multipack briefs had been enough to turn him off. Though there was a distinct carefulness to the way he moved as he leant over and turned the music off, and nothing equivocal about the way he pressed his palm against his half-hard cock for just a second before turning back to her.

‘Cmere’ was the only warning she got before he was kissing her deeply again, all teeth and tongue until she was panting into his open mouth, breaking off to find his eyes blown and dark with want. ‘Fucking want you’ she murmured, giving him her best slow half-smile as she looked up at him through thick lashes. ‘Jesus _Christ_ , Nic’la. Does Diana know ye stole her doe-eye fuckin prick tease thing?’ he grumbled, though it was really more of a growl, and she couldn’t stop her grin escaping, which rather ruined the aloof feline sex-appeal thing she was going for. ‘Don’t. I told you no Diana in the bedroom’ she sighed, with all the airs of a long-suffering wife of two decades, before rolling her eyes affectionately and giving him another soft kiss. ‘So, um – should I -?’ she asked, gesturing vaguely towards the carpet. Malcolm seemed to come back to himself a little, to remember why they were here, instead of just roaming his eyes hungrily over every inch of her skin. ‘Oh – aye, s’probably easiest. There’s lots of different positions and ways we can try, but there’s nothin wrong with old faithful’ he teased, reaching over and grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed, popping it on the floor at his feet. ‘Your Highness –‘ he proclaimed, and it was really all she could do not to give him a playful smack on the arse, and instead gracefully bend at the knees and sink down onto the soft pillow, sitting back on her heels and looking up at him. The very slightly exaggerated slow blink and eyelash flutter she added on the end was utterly gratuitous but seemed to have the intended effect. She really ought to dig out some falsies, see what he made of those. She reached up, enjoying the soft hiss of breath that escaped as she deliberately ran her nails gently down his stomach to his hip bones before sliding her fingers under the waistband of his jogging bottoms and slowly pulling them down. She hadn’t accounted for quite how close she’d be to his now distinctly hard freed cock (no boxers, _charming_ ), but it was probably the perfect opportunity to get rather closely acquainted, considering what was on tonight’s agenda. God, it just – his cock, her mouth, the _logistics_ of it made her head spin a little. A few kitten licks and an ice-lolly style wet pop weren’t going to cut it this time, so hopefully she’d be given a little guidance. No teeth. Breathe through your nose. She could do this. How hard could it be?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this is technically poor, it's because I wrote it on the bus. If it's theoretically implausible, its because I know very little about cocks 🤷♀️

Malcolm Tucker's girlfriend (partner? Wife?) had just wrinkled her nose at his erection. It was subtle, a little flicker of uncertainty and very mild distaste, but he doesn't miss anything. "Ye don't have tae, Nics" he reminds her, brushing a strand of hair back from her face and ending up with his hand buried in a thick, barely-tamed ocean of lightly sun-bleached soft curls. Fucking gorgeous. The last thing he wants to do is pressure her into anything, but he knows by now that Nicola sometimes simply requires a little encouragement, a reminder that the things she wants are acceptable, achievable, usually relatively normal. She was the one who kept bringing it up, over the simmering pan of bolognese, or halfway through an evening stroll around the park - "I've been thinking about sucking you off again." Somedays he finds himself wishing he could get inside her mind, work out what it is that makes her capable of being quite so open. He finds the vulnerability startling, and more than a little arousing. The natural culmination of such thoughts is that he's not entirely convinced he won't come utterly untouched, just starting at her jawline, the delicate dip of her collarbone, the unequivocal deep trust in her olive eyes. Pull yerself together, Tucker. "I want you" she murmurs, a dusky pink flush rising from the lace cup of her bra up to her jaw, where it spreads out like a languid sunrise. Perhaps he doesn't want to fuck her at all. Perhaps he just wants to stand here, stark bollock naked, and stare at her in her mismatched underwear kneeling on a pillow that smells like him. Her knees will smell of him now, he realises, and it's somehow almost as captivating as the thought of his cock in her mouth. He really has gone soft in old age. 

"S'easy, Nics. Trust me, aye? Here-" he says gently, taking her little hands in his and resting one on his hip, slowly curling the other around his cock, giving her enough time to pull away if she's changed her mind. His hand stays atop hers as she inhales, draws some confidence from her inner goddess, and then he can't help but gently brush over her hair as she leans in and takes him into her mouth. He's careful not to tug or tangle, just gently rests his hand at the back of her neck without changing anything about the slow, torturously slow rhythm she's setting up. Always a fucking tease. It's not the first time they've been here, though he can count the others on one hand, and he always felt she wasn't really completely with him, and so encouraged her into something else with as much tact as possible. The fact that she hadn't been uninterested, simply uncertain, makes him feel a little less like a prick for letting her keep trying. Perhaps she just needed some exposure. Regardless, today she's absolutely present, gazing up at him as she takes him deep into her wet, warm mouth, letting her hand fall away as she gains confidence with taking all of him at once. There's a playful sparkle in her eye that almost says "look - no hands!" and he's grateful for their mutual understanding on laughter in the bedroom as he grins down at her. Christ, she's stunning. 

Once she's got herself settled, working out what they like, he lets himself start talking. He's always had a fucking filthy mouth, but never more so than when he's in a situation where he feels in charge. Its not that he wants to dominate her, necessarily - he wouldn't dare - but she needs him to be certain and encouraging. If he scratches her back - well. "So fucking good, Nic. Feels so good. Perfect" he encourages her quietly, letting his fingers tangle into her hair, stroking slightly against the soft skin at the back of her neck. She loves having her hair pulled, and he gives her a gentle tug of encouragement as she hollows her cheeks around his cock and sucks. Hard. "Christ, Nic'la - Jesus" he groans, his breath coming in soft gasps already. She holds him there for a moment, looking up at him through thick dark eyelashes in a way thats going to ruin him forever, then seems to realise that a constant vacuum, though pleasurable, isn't going to get them very far. The noise when she releases the tension in her cheeks is utterly obscene, and he spots a half grin forming around the edges of her lips. Her soft, bitten-blush lips that are wrapped around the base of his cock, sliding along his skin as she bobs her head in an enthusiastic rhythm, really getting into it now. Fuck. He doesn't have much more of this left in him, as embarasssing as it is to admit. 

He's never been one to finish too early. The element of competition sharing a two bed tiny flat with Jamie, a shared wall made essentially of cardboard behind both their beds, had been enough to instill in him a great ability to grit his teeth and hold out, to push himself right to the edge before finally tipping over. It works well in combination with a Nicola, who he's pretty sure will be able to come with just a well timed raised eyebrow once he gets her relaxed enough. They must've shagged for weeks, cumulatively, though there were weeks at the beginning when it felt like all they did. She's utterly, blindingly glorious in every way, and it doesn't even feel like hyperbole. An understatement, if anything. Which is the explanation he tells himself when he brushes a thumb over her cheek and gently slides out of her mouth, wincing a little at the cool air on his oversensitive prick. "Nic, I - any more of that and I'm gonnae come." He swears she grins, bright and wide, and then realises and affects that fucking Diana head tilt and eyelash flutter. If its an act, it fucking works, and if it's natural - he's in for a wonderful life. 

She doesn't say anything, save a little hum of curiosity and acknowledgement, before she brings his other hand to her hair too, and he knows better than to ignore an instruction like that. He tangles them both in her curls, tugging slightly, and lets out at utterly embarrassing primal grunt as she takes him into her mouth again, blinking hard as she misjudges and he nudges the back of her throat. Ah-ah, Princess, his filthy hindbrain supplies, and he gently cups her head in his hand and pulls back just a little, showing her how far she can go without risking tears. Messy blowjobs, he can get into - tearful ones he cannot. Her eyes are grateful and dark as she looks up at him again, and he manages all of a minute looking into her eyes as she slides her tongue lazily around his cock and sucks noisily before he tips his head back and screws his eyes shut. "Nic, darlin, I'm gonnae-" he warns her again, giving her an out. She doesn't want an out. Clearly she wants a mouthful of his spunk, because the response she opts for is a concentrated hollowing of her cheeks, and a squeeze of his arse, and the resulting orgasm shocks him with its intensity more than it does her. "Jesus, fuck, fuck, Nic -" he manages, before dissolving into an utterly fucked out low moan. 

She licks her fucking lips. It's not affected, not showy, but she definitely does, after she's gently slipped backwards and swallowed. Her inquisitive tongue slips out just for a second, catching any come she's missed like it's the secret to eternal youth. Maybe it is for her, but if she keeps up like this he's going to have to speak to his cardiologist. His heart is pounding away somewhere in his throat and his stomach and his satieted cock simultaneously, and she looks up at him like he's the whole moon and stars, which does even worse things for his cardiovascular system. He's pretty sure his heart actually skips, a roughly handled record that now only plays "Nic, Nic, Nic" again and again. Still. He's pretty sure there's nothing in the world he'd rather be stuck on.


End file.
